February is my monster month.
Valentine's Day, Wedding Anniversary, the beginning of
the end even though I didn't know it.
In February 2010 he went into the
hospital with pneumonia. I had just had the baby.
Valentine's Day and
our anniversary were 6 days apart 14th and 20th, so we usually did something on
the 17th. That year he had a procedure, so we just exchanged cards.
On our actual anniversary he told me he was
going to do better about listening to the doctors and our lives would be better.
I don't know why, but that day now feels like the beginning of the end. I had no
real reason to think he was going to die soon, but when he said what he said, I
didn't believe him. I didn't know why.
17 days later on March 9th, he was
dead. So the sadiversary approaches.
In 2011, February kicked my butt and
I cried a lot. March my son was actually in the hospital, released on the
sadiversary date and I was so exhausted I couldn't cry.
In 2012, I was
just uneasy. I cleared his clothes out and changed a lot of the house. It
This year, I'm just mad. I'm mad he was that sick. I'm mad
I'm alone. I'm mad about all that was stolen from us while he was even here. We
were stripped of everything that pretty much makes a marriage a marriage for 3/4
of the time we were together. And yes, I'm mad at the possibility that I'll
never be loved, know passion or even lay in someone's arms at night. After the
first year, I never got that with Thomas because of his illness.
grateful for what we did have in the time we had it. I had the chance to have
children. It's just this loneliness is intense. First two years it was all for
him. Now, my heart just hurts because he's gone, things were crappy a lot
especially those last 4 years and our friendship was all we had, which was
strained from caregiving and stress.
I still feel robbed. And I do wonder
if of love, that will be all I know. I wouldn't be the first to have that
happened. I'm struggling to dream right now.
I feel like my children were
robbed. My son is 3 and he's starting to realize someone is missing. My daughter
is 9 and is starting to ask more questions about what happened the day her
father died. She and her brother were actually in the house with me when I found
Thomas, but they were downstairs. I found him upstairs, somehow resisted the urge to
scream my head off, and called someone to come and get her. She's found out in
bits and pieces. First that he died in the house, then that I found him here and just
recently when she asked more about that day I told her that she was in the house
when I found him. My son just tells me needs a daddy.
One day we were leaving the doctor's office and he called the pediatrician
daddy. Just turned and waved and said, "See you later daddy," with so little
effort. Other than being the same race, the pediatrician looks nothing like Thomas.
I was completely caught off guard.
Maybe I shouldn't have been. My son
is a happy little boy, but twice has just outright said, "I need a mommy and
a daddy." Maybe it was just a matter of time before he placed that title on
someone. I really thought it would be his Godfather before anyone, but I guess I
successfully headed that off by emphasizing early on calling him "uncle" like
the rest of his Godchildren.
We talked about daddy for a while after we
got home. These are the days I feared early on after Thomas died. He's in a stage
where he feels the void, but I can neither fill it nor explain it. He is as
fortunate as he can get in that he has constant male companionship in his
And because my
daughter has some learning challenges, the plans Thomas and I made for her education
have been hard to keep. It is so much work even without challenges like Dyslexia
to deal with. In February, she has 3 oral presentations and a science
project. And I'm tired. And because it's been nearly three years, I feel even
more alone than usual.
It just really really hurts. A lot of the time I
am okay. We are growing together the children and I but sometimes I see all the
challenges ahead and have to constantly remind myself I can face them. Some will
be a strain emotionally. Some will be a strain financially. Some will be both
and the wound reopens on occassion. But I press on.